Tim Tebow, Uncool

Because hate is nothing new. Part of a four-part attempt to understand the leader of Christian Nation and the quarterback of our time, on the occasion of his taking on his diametric opposite and losing pretty badly.

Because I am a native Clevelander, I have borne a grudge against Denver, the Broncos, John Elway, and the National Football League for many, many years. Elway made his name breaking the hearts of Browns fans in the 1980s, and the NFL owners voted to allow their colleague Art Modell — may he suffer yet another decade of ill health before his descent to Hell — steal the team away in 1995, knowing full well that whatever it cost Cleveland, they'd each collect millions from Modell's treachery. So it came as a complete shock to me to discover, a couple of weeks ago, that I love Tim Tebow.

I don't believe it's just some wobbly passing fancy, either. First of all, unlike so many of the smug pundits certain of his ultimate failure as an NFL quarterback, I am in no rush to dismiss the kid's success based solely upon my own imaginary expertise in what it takes to become a great NFL quarterback. Tebow looks like he's getting better, not worse, at throwing passes. He's already a great running QB. He is tough. He is fearless. And he is an inspired and inspiring leader of men.

Not all men, of course. So many of my colleagues would prefer to be led by a glib cipher like Tom Brady, primarily because Tom Brady shtups actresses and supermodels and perfectly personifies the shallow, joyless culture of celebrity. Don't get me wrong: Tom Brady is a Hall of Fame quarterback — but he is also one of the planet's least interesting humans, cool in the exact way that every great high-school quarterback and Homecoming King is cool.

Tim Tebow is anything but cool. His Christian evangelism is fiery enough that even his avowedly religious peers — namely Kurt Warner and Aaron Rogers — have publicly advised him to quiet down about Jesus. It is just this facet of his persona that so many NFL fans and members of the commentariat find so ugly and repulsive. And this — this is the very thing that makes me love Tebow most of all.

I haven't seen a professional athlete hated like Tebow for the secular sin of religiosity since Cassius Clay became Muhammad Ali. Blasphemy, I know. But nonetheless it is true. And so I am both delighted and appalled at how many fine folks — who take pride in their embrace of ethnic diversity and would never ever tolerate any hint of bigotry as they define it — foam at their keyboards in fury at the sight of Tim Tebow kneeling in prayer on the football field.